


Oh, we couldn't get closer than this

by clottedcreamfudge



Series: Tooth-rotting Malec nonsense [3]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Animal Shelter, Cats, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Past Magnus Bane/Camille Belcourt, Sarcasm, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wholesome content up ahead, adopt don't shop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:27:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29557722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clottedcreamfudge/pseuds/clottedcreamfudge
Summary: “Nobody is removing this cat from my person,” he says haughtily, pulling Meow a little closer to him. The cat’s purring only increases in volume.“Magnus, you can’t justcarryhim home,” Alec says, sounding exasperated. Then, clearly seeing the expression on Magnus’s face, he groans. “That wasn’t meant to be a challenge.” Magnus relents.“Fine, but if I put him down and he misinterprets our momentary parting asrejection, leading to an unbridgeable chasm of doubt and resentment opening up between us, I shall be thoroughly put out.”“Noted,” Alec says drily.➼Magnus gets a cat. And some other stuff.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Tooth-rotting Malec nonsense [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170269
Comments: 56
Kudos: 266





	Oh, we couldn't get closer than this

“You should get a pet,” Catarina had told Magnus after his third - and final - break-up with Camille. She’d been sipping on her seventh margarita at the time, the words coming out just a little slurred past the salted rim of her glass, but Magnus had heard her nonetheless. “You love cats. Getting a cat would probably make you happy.”

“That won’t make me feel better about being alone,” Magnus had _kind of_ wailed, because he had also been on his seventh margarita, “because then I’ll just be alone _with a cat_. Which is essentially an accessory for the lonely. Like a button that says, ‘I’m unlovable but at least someone will eat me when I’m gone’.”

“Okay, we’re moving onto Tequila Sunrises,” Cat had said eventually, correctly interpreting this as Magnus’s very specific brand of margarita-induced ennui.

“Yes,” he’d hissed, throwing back the rest of his drink and slamming the glass back down with so much force that the table had wobbled dangerously. “I love those. Camille always said they were a girly drink, then bought me _beer.”_

“Camille was a controlling waste of oxygen who didn’t understand how to have fun without someone else getting hurt in the process,” Cat had said darkly, words coming out so fast and with such venom they don’t have time to get snarled up in the alcohol. She’d then paused, head to one side, considering. “Also, Tequila Sunrises have _way_ more alcohol in them than beer. Children used to drink beer because it was safer to drink than water. What the fuck’s that all about?”

“See, this is what I’ve been _saying-_ ”

Magnus had woken up with a truly cracking hangover the next day, having forgotten the entire conversation in a haze of Pornstar Martinis and Long Island Iced Teas.

Three months later, still kind of lonely and having started a Pinterest board of cute cats a few weeks prior, Magnus nonetheless finds himself being dragged through the front door of a local animal shelter by Clary. She works here part-time to help subsidise her art sales, apparently, and Magnus has to wonder how many previously un-adoptable animals have been whisked away by some helpless patron after being subjected to Clary’s incredibly powerful puppy dog eyes.

“While I appreciate your support, Biscuit, I’m sure I could have found the place myself,” he says with an amused huff of breath, keeping his arm linked with hers in spite of his words. She raises her eyebrows with a little laugh.

“I know you could, Magnus - but then I wouldn’t have been able to see your _face_.”

“Are we trying on ‘cryptic’ for size today, my dear?” he asks lightly, allowing himself to be manoeuvred past the front desk and into the back of the shelter, rows of ceiling-to-floor kennels coming into view alongside the distinct smells of disinfectant and shedding animals.

“I learned from the best,” she quips with a smile, and then he’s being towed down a corridor lined with excitable, yapping dogs, and into a slightly quieter section beyond. There’s someone just past this door, and Magnus suddenly realises _exactly_ what Clary’s playing at.

“Well, you’ve seen my face now, Biscuit,” he says faintly, and her stifled laughter as she makes her way back into the ‘yapping dogs’ corridor is all the response he needs. The figure in front of him turns, apparently noticing he has company, and the frown on the man’s face does absolutely _nothing_ to dampen Magnus’s enthusiasm at seeing him from the front.

“Can I help you?” He’s so _rude_ , Magnus thinks delightedly, and because he’s really _looking_ , Magnus can see the second he realises his own rudeness too. He can _also_ see the moment the guy really takes Magnus in, eyes sweeping up his body with something akin to alarm; whether it’s the tight red trousers that have him shocked or the fact that he’s wearing a black and gold brocade waistcoat to visit an animal shelter, it’s impossible to say.

“Oh, I should certainly think so,” Magnus says with a slow smile; he doesn’t think he imagines the answering flush creeping across the man’s cheekbones. Magnus holds out his hand and, after a split-second delay where the other man clearly debates running in the opposite direction, eventually finds it enveloped in a warm, firm handshake. “I’m Magnus,” he says helpfully. “Biscuit - Clary, pardon me - brought me back here, so if that’s against some kind of rule, I’m delighted to say I’m entirely innocent of wrongdoing. And it’s not often I can say that.” The man seems to smile in spite of himself.

“Um - Alec,” he says after a moment - then, apparently just noticing that they’re still all but holding hands, pulls his own back and lets it fall to his side. “I mean, I’m Alec - I work with Clary. Well, Clary works _for_ me.” He sounds nervous, and as he runs a hand through the delightful mess of his dark hair, Magnus is utterly charmed.

“And I’m sure she’s a model employee when she isn’t dragging strangers into your inner sanctum,” Magnus says knowingly. Alec goes a little redder, quite probably at his word usage.

“She’s fine,” Alec manages eventually, but there’s a flash of fondness on his features that’s rather more telling than his words. “Anyway - you needed my help with something?”

“I’ve been thinking about getting a cat for a while now,” Magnus says with a nod, suddenly realising he’s absolutely _surrounded_ by them; he’d been a little too distracted by Alec’s everything to notice at first. “I largely work from home, and while I love dogs, I’m not sure I have the temperament for one.” Alec frowns at him, but it seems as though he’s curious rather than instantly judgmental. “I don’t think I could take something for a walk twice a day consistently, especially knowing that strangers might be inclined to think my furry companion is cuter than I am,” he explains. Alec lets out a little snort of laughter.

“That’s a new one,” he admits, rolling his shoulders just a little. Magnus follows the movement of muscles beneath Alec’s thin sweater with absolutely no attempts at subtlety; he wonders vaguely if he could just take _him_ home instead. “So - cats?”

“Cats,” Magnus says decisively, tearing his eyes away from Alec’s shoulders to meet his eyes. “I too enjoy eating, napping, and getting into questionable arguments with strangers down alleyways.” That last one’s a lie, but Alec lets out a surprised little laugh that suffuses Magnus’s entire body with warmth, so it’s absolutely worth it.

“Right - do you have a preference?”

“Well as long as it has at least three legs and one ear I’m sure we’ll get along famously.” Alec seems pleased by his answer, the ghost of a smile remaining on his face as he gestures for Magnus to follow him over to the cages a little further down the corridor.

“These are our longer-term residents,” he says fondly. “Most people who come here want kittens or something showy… we’ve had people bring back animals because they didn’t match the furniture before.” He sounds incredibly angry now and Magnus is right there with him.

“I’m aware this is a no-kill shelter,” he says seriously, “but surely we could make an exception for precisely those kinds of people?” Alec flashes him a slightly feral grin that kind of… _does_ things to Magnus’s insides.

“The good thing about running your own shelter is that you can tell people to get fucked without any real repercussions beyond a bitter Yelp review.” Alec turns back to the cages and points out a smallish tabby at the back of one; it’s blinking sleepily but seems to be eyeing them with a certain amount of curiosity. “This is Meow. He’s been here for about six months - his owner died, and it took him a while to come out of his shell after he came here. He’s not really a _people_ cat, but he’s really great when you get to know him.”

“I’m a raging socialite, so I imagine we’d balance each other out,” Magnus says with a smile. Alec smiles back and it’s all just _lovely._

“Do you want to see what he makes of you?”

“Provided it isn’t carpaccio of Magnus? Absolutely,” he says immediately, before following Alec into the kennel and obediently latching the door behind him. There isn’t much room in here, the ceiling slightly too low in places for him to stand up straight, and they have to stoop even further when they get to the platform at the back of the small space where Meow is sitting. He’s fully alert now, staring at Magnus, and Magnus - remembering all the articles he’s been reading recently on cat behaviour - blinks slowly at Meow and tries to look non-threatening.

“Meow, this is Magnus,” Alec says in a low voice, sounding incredibly calm and surprisingly normal for someone who’s talking to a cat. “He’s looking for a cute pet that isn’t _too_ cute, and I thought you might fit the bill.” Magnus stifles a laugh at the sombre tone of his voice.

“Isn’t that a little offensive?” he whispers, even though it’s probably fine for him to speak at a normal volume.

“No less offensive than that being your sole criterion for pet ownership,” Alec says drily, and when Magnus turns to flash a grin at him, he realises they’re incredibly close. Of course they are, he thinks a little wildly; there really isn’t a lot of room in here. Alec seems to have noticed the minimal distance between them too, that instantaneous flush starting on his cheekbones again. The man really is criminally beautiful.

“Well,” Magnus says with a little cough, turning back to look at Meow, “I seem to have remained in one piece so far. Shall we take this to the next level and see if I live to tell the tale?”

It turns out that Meow _loves_ Magnus. The tabby ends up curled against his chest, purring like distant thunder, his claws latched firmly in the gold brocade of Magnus’s waistcoat. Magnus isn’t even mad about it; he’s pretty in love himself, actually.

“Do you want to see any others?” Alec asks softly, and Magnus really wants to look at him, to see if his face is as open and warm as he thinks it might be, but he can’t look away from Meow.

“I don’t think that’s going to be necessary, darling,” he says with a small smile. Alec makes a little noise of surprise that he tries to cover up with a cough, which is when Magnus notices the term of endearment that just slipped out. “Sorry,” he says immediately, looking up to meet Alec’s eyes with an apologetic little wince. “I’d say I’m usually professional and distant, but that would be such a flagrant lie I’m not sure I’d be able to keep a straight face.”

“It’s fine,” Alec says firmly, eyes dancing away for a moment before coming to rest on where Meow’s settled against Magnus’s chest. “I’m actually not sure how I’m meant to get him off you without him ruining my hands.” Magnus fixes him with a glare.

“Nobody is removing this cat from my person,” he says haughtily, pulling Meow a little closer to him. The cat’s purring only increases in volume.

“Magnus, you can’t just _carry_ him home,” Alec says, sounding exasperated. Then, clearly seeing the expression on Magnus’s face, he groans. “That wasn’t meant to be a _challenge._ ” Magnus relents.

“Fine, but if I put him down and he misinterprets our momentary parting as _rejection_ , leading to an unbridgeable chasm of doubt and resentment opening up between us, I shall be thoroughly put out.”

“Noted,” Alec says drily.

Meow doesn’t seem _horribly_ offended when he’s popped back on his little platform, but he does watch with interest as Alec and Magnus leave the kennel, locking the door again behind them.

“There are some background checks we need to do, usually including a home visit,” Alec explains, taking Magnus to the front desk and pulling out some forms and a pen before pushing them towards him. “Meow was an indoor cat, so he’ll need to be gradually introduced to outdoor spaces if you’re going to let him explore.” Given that Magnus lives in an apartment, he’s fairly certain that won’t be an issue.

“Okay,” Magnus says with a nod, trying to concentrate on what Alec’s saying, rather than on the broadness of his hands as he sifts through a couple more bits of paperwork.

“We can dispense with the home visit if Clary’s happy to vouch for your living space being appropriate, which-” Alec frowns and looks around. “Where _is_ Clary?”

“I hear if you say her name three times in front of a mirror, she appears,” Magnus says mildly, and Alec rolls his eyes.

“She brought you here, did she literally just _leave_ right afterwards?” he asks, looking bewildered; Magnus sighs, putting down his pen and fixing Alec with a look.

“I would imagine she was attempting, in her own subtle way, to give us some privacy.”

“What?” Alec asks, looking adorably confused and all the more handsome for it. It really is shocking that he doesn’t seem to have a bad angle. “Why?”

“Because I am very single,” Magnus says slowly, “and you are both impossibly attractive and precisely my brand of bitingly funny. I would imagine those were her two main motivators, though I can’t speak for how precisely _your_ feelings factored into her calculations.” Alec’s openly staring at him now, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly open in a parody of shock. It’s annoying, really, that he still looks _this_ beautiful while doing a passable impression of a goldfish; it’s possible the downright sinful shape of his mouth has a hand in the overall picture, but who’s to say. It’s hard to know which part of him to focus on.

“She - sorry, what?” Magnus sighs and turns to lean his hip against the counter, folding his arms.

“Which part of that are you struggling with, darling?”

“Um, mostly?” Alec says, swallowing and looking at a point somewhere over Magnus’s shoulder. “It’s the part where you’re single.” Magnus feels the smile on his own face before he even really has time to feel the rush of pleasure that comes with it, his body beginning to tingle with it as he takes in the furious blush now spreading down Alec’s neck.

“That really doesn’t have to be a permanent state of affairs,” he says lightly, daring to uncross his arms and slide a hand across the counter so that his fingers just brush Alec’s. He’s more than a little bit surprised when Alec responds after only a second’s hesitation, turning his hand and moving so that their palms slide together, fingers just circling Magnus’s wrist. Magnus’s breath hitches slightly in his throat and when he looks at Alec there’s a tentative smile on his face.

“If um… If Clary’s not here,” he says, throat bobbing as he swallows, “you’ll need a proper home check.” Magnus picks up the thread easily with a smile, using Alec’s grip on his wrist to pull him closer.

“But it’s the middle of the day,” he says teasingly, placing his other hand tentatively on Alec’s waist. “Who’s going to watch the place while you’re taking on additional responsibilities?” Alec licks his lips and Magnus watches the motion with a jolt of longing.

“The good thing about running your own shelter,” he says, voice pitched a little lower than before, “is that you can close whenever the fuck you want.”

Magnus doesn’t usually kiss people twenty minutes after meeting them - no really, he _doesn’t_ \- but there’s something magnetic about Alec that draws him in and makes him perhaps a little bit reckless. From the way Alec kisses him back, soft and restrained, but full of promise, he thinks he might not be alone in that feeling. When Magnus eventually pulls away, he feels lighter than air, his blood thrumming with potential; Alec looks a little bit dazed, which Magnus finds eminently relatable at the moment.

“Well,” Magnus says breathlessly, taking a half step backwards to put a respectable amount of distance between them, leaving his hand on the counter linked with Alec’s. “I find myself desperately hopeful that this isn’t how you treat all of your patrons.” Alec’s startled little laugh warms Magnus’s blood, something in the frequency of it vibrating in time with his heartbeat.

“I’m not really like this with _anyone,_ ” he says, then looks a little frustrated with his own honesty. “I don’t… I mean-”

“If you’re telling me you don’t usually go around kissing strangers, I can hardly say I’m disappointed to be the exception,” Magnus says softly, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin and steady pulse at Alec’s wrist where their hands are joined. “I’d quite like to _not_ be a stranger, though, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Yeah,” Alec says with a small smile, any remaining tension leaving his shoulders as he closes the space between them again. “I’d like that.”

Catarina had been absolutely right, Magnus thinks as he sways back towards Alec’s mouth; it turns out getting a cat is probably going to make him _very_ happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from The Lovecats by The Cure.
> 
> (Also, that 'pets not matching the furniture' thing? Literally happened at a local greyhound shelter round our way.)


End file.
